II : Release
by ohgleegasms
Summary: Second installation to the story, "Emotion." A WIP. Blair has run off to Switzerland with - Georgina? Will she live up the life and surrender the notions of virtue and love? Or will she return to NY and admit her affections? Rated M for sexual themes.
1. Preface

Goodness, goodness!

Well I can honestly say that I am quite surprised by the amount of views on my two Gossip Girl stories. Honored, and surprised. x3 However, I was hoping that with that many views, I'd get more **re**views to know what people wish to see more of, in terms of stories. Call me a people-pleaser, but I want to know what you want to see, what you like, don't like, etc.

Until then, however, I'm just going to keep running with it, and well – do what I do. My thing.

Now, I have gotten a few PMs and whatnot in sheer panic wondering, "What happened to Blair?" "What about Nate and Chuck and Serena?" "How dare you leave us hanging?"

(threats are rather amusing, by the way – and PM threats are even funnier lmao however I won't post it here; unnecessary and uncalled for, in terms of sharing it with the world.)

But anyway, to avoid being –ahem- maimed and blacklisted, I'm working on part two of the fanfiction "Emotion;" that is, working on new story, new title – following up to tie up the loose ends.

(please note in Emotion's description there is a sidenote saying I'm working on the continuation)

I didn't want to bore you all with too many chapters and well, let's face it, Gossip Girl episodes _always_ leave us hanging.

However, some reassurances that I'm not going to leave you hanging, and am working (slowly) on segment two. It's been a busy week, busy weekend, busy life; but I promise, I'll fulfill _someone's_ pairing needs.

Will it be Nate x Blair? Nate x Chuck? Blair x Chuck? Serena x Nate? Serena x Chuck? Oh, come on, endless possibilities here…

(all author credit to outside influences will come at the end of this one, so I don't need to edit this. haha)

Enjoy!

All my love,

Tori


	2. Serena: The Realization

Picking up her cell phone, Serena dials Blair's number furiously. Defeat surges through her entire body upon hearing the mechanical voice message informing her that the number had been disconnected. How could this happen? Panic swells in her chest as she shuts the phone, then prepares to dial for Nate. He _would_ be the one to know; wouldn't he? After all, he had been the last to see her…

Before she has the opportunity, however, her bedroom door explodes open with such ferocity that she fears it might shatter from its hinges. Dark eyes of the devil drone through her body and she shudders, having never seen such an expression upon his face before. "You have something to do with this!" he hollers at her, waving a piece of paper up in the air. "I never should have confided in you, you little bitch!"

Leaping from her bed, she grabs the paper from his hand and stares at it, incredulous. "Blair," she mutters, "of course she would. Chuck, I have no _idea_ what happened! Last I saw her she was pissed off at me for being in your suite, remember?" She glares at him, scowling. "Looks to me, though that it might be _you_ who is to blame and you just love to hide from accepting it," she snaps, glowering at him. Her tone is accusatory; angry at having been accused by him, but holding back nothing to throw it back in his face.

Such hostility, mixed with sorrow, over losing Blair from their lives.

Stare down occurs, navy blue eyes glaring into his raven ones. Neither budges. Then finally, he caves. "Sorry S, I guess I'm just…"

She waves it off, incapable of holding a grudge. "It's okay. I was about to call Nate and lose it on him, much as you just did to me. So I can call it even," she states. She moves back to her bed, collapsing once more. "I just can't believe it. Where is she? I mean, I'd guess France, right? With her dad?"

He considers. Shrugs. "She knows we'd look for her there."

"True," the blonde agrees, "although, she has no family elsewhere. Trust me. And her father loves her enough to shield her from the world," she reasons, trying to rationalize the situation. Chuck is silent a moment, then she presses onward. "She wanted to move back when you two, whatever, the first time. She was ready to leave since she lost her throne. She might have gone there and well, let's face it, her dad will do anything to safeguard her."

Silence.

They know it's true – so true.

Head tilts, blonde curls falling to one side as she thinks. "So… we go find her?" she asks. He glares up at her, scowling.

"She doesn't want _me_, remember? She was so hung up on Nate, she needed an answer to get back to _Nate_."

The blonde smirks slightly; she sees through this façade. He is feigning bitterness, unable to permit his weakness to prevail once more. He must be the man now. But she knows better. She knows he's still aching – she can sense it.

"Chuck, knock it off. We both know why you lost her, you told her to go."

Scowling, but stuck in a corner nonetheless, he sighs, exasperated. "Our secret that you know me so well," he snaps.

Chuckling, she pats the bed beside her. "Of course. Now, to determine how to handle this situation. We need to do something, we can't just _sit_ here. I can try Eleanor, but you know she won't cave easily. Not to anyone but…"

The two look into one another's eyes and brilliant smiles unite.

"Nate," she speaks into the phone the second he answers. "Look, you need to come over – now. No – what are you?...no, I have no…just get your ass here to my suite. Right now." She scowls as she hangs up. "He blamed me too," she whines. "Why am I always the guilty one?"

"…because you're the one who's so good with disappearances, S."

Frowning slightly, she accepts this with a nod. "I… guess you're right. But I… no, this is far beyond even my own support, I swear." He gives her a level stare, but finally caves. He nods too, and says nothing. "Well… once Nate gets here, hopefully we'll be able to put the pieces together. Right?..."

Her hopeful tone speaks for both of them as the room turns to silence, waiting for Nate to appear.  
Through the silence, she's almost certain she can hear Chuck's heart breaking.


	3. Chuck: The Outburst

Waking up to an envelope resting on his chest was hardly how Chuck Bass preferred to wake in the morning. In fact, he almost hated to admit that he'd much rather wake in the arms of (step-sister?) Serena than to wake in solitude, with nothing but a paper offering of affection and condolences. However, upon reading said paper, his heart had burst into flames; burning, bleeding. Raw throat, still aching from the day he had spent in mourning with Serena, burns as he tries to control his anger.

Serena – the queen of disappearing acts – she had to be behind this.

Barely taking the time to throw pants onto his lower half, he storms from his bedroom – having stayed in the van der Bass/Humphrey suite that night, not bothering to knock as he bursts into Serena's bedroom. Disregarding the fact that she's in all stages of dress – black bra visible beneath her tight white camisole while nothing but a sheer pair of lace panties covers her bottom half – he releases his rage.

Surprise, confusion and a taste of anger lace across her features as she meets his angry stare;  
he nearly melts at the gaze – too weak to handle the pressure of anyone else chastising him.

Resolution is accomplished through conversation and surprisingly, he believes Serena. He knows that despite their friendship, Blair is not exceptionally keen on always being open with Serena. Though their friendship is undeniable and their faithfulness runs deep, the hesitation still remains. Perhaps incapable of accepting that Nate chose Serena over Blair, once upon a time? Though, this could truly be nothing short of hypocritical, for Blair, but Chuck never questioned it. Merely, he accepts that Serena does not know – and perhaps Nate does.

Waiting – playing the waiting game is not something he handles well.

Ten minutes into the silence that falls between himself and Serena, she must realize she's only half-dressed and she moves from her bed to put on a pair of yoga pants – something he's never seen her do before. Wear them, that is. Eyes watch her actions, not even remotely turned on by the fact that he's watching a half-naked woman dress herself. (clearly, he is not himself) Exhaling softly, his mind churns, processing the words in the letter she wrote.

He had caused her so much agony;  
all because he loved her, but pride made him act otherwise.

Downcast gaze drifts to the floor, oblivious to Serena's presence returning to sit beside him on the bed. He doesn't notice her leaning in to him, head on his shoulder. Absent-mindedly he strokes her hair as her head falls into his lap while soft sobs wrack her entire body. He is incapable of grasping the situation fully; instead only out of instinct. It isn't until the door to her bedroom opens that he is yanked from his trance – eyes lifting to the intruder.

Nate.

He growls something unintelligible, noting the look of – surprise? – that crosses over Nate's features. He then glances down, realizing Serena's face is smothered against his leg. Nowhere near – pleasure – but from where Nate stands, it could be presumed. Just as Nate prepares to back out of the room, Chuck snaps at him. "She's crying, stop acting like a pussy and get in here." At his words he feels her shifting, sitting upright. Her eyes are red, bloodshot and watery as she quickly wipes her cheeks – in a half-assed attempt to look as though she is perfectly fine.

"Hi Nate," she whispers.

Incapable of being civil, though, Chuck stands and moves across the room. Taking ahold of Nate by the shoulders, in one swift movement he has the sandy-haired athlete pinned to the wall. Serena leaps from her bed. "Chuck!' But he stares into the pale eyes of his (former) best friend and sneers.

"What did you do to her?"

Nate fumbles, shocked. "I – uh – what? This is all your fault…" he tries, weakly.

"Fuckin' shut up. What the fuck did you do?" Chuck snarls, slamming Nate against the wall with more force.

"Chuck!" Serena shoves herself against him, squirming her way between the two. He instantly releases Nate, not wanting to harm Serena. Cold-hearted he may be, but he knows his limits. Sometimes. Scowling at her, he shakes his head but she is persistent. "Let's sit down and talk civilly. I know you're upset, we all are, but for our sakes and Blair's, let's talk rationally. Come on, sit on my bed," she says, pointing to it.

Meekly, he goes – shooting Nate one last glare before his surrender.

Heart aches, burning with the desire to rip Nate limb from limb -  
yet inside, he knows he only has himself to blame.

_I should have told her the truth…I should have told her I loved her when I had the chance…_


	4. Nate: The Confession

Guilt.

Surging through his veins, purging his poor, fragile heart as it shatters within his shuddering chest. Too hard; he had been too hard on her. Could he not have been appeased knowing she had given herself to him? No – no, he had to break her shoes and practically her neck by yelling at her. Sighing softly, he sets the letter on his nightstand, shaking his head. "Nathaniel Archibald you are _nothing_ but a failure," he whispers to himself. For a few moments, he sits and wallows in self-pity, burdening himself with the blame for Blair's disappearance. However the moment his phone rings and he notes that it is Serena, he rips the guilt from his back and shoves it down her throat.

"You conniving little bitch," he hisses, "telling her to leave. Is this to teach me a lesson? To punish me?"

Serena sounds astonished and slightly angry at his accusations and instantly, the guilt slaps Nate in the face once more. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Could he not ruin _anything_ just once? Fueling the anger within Serena would not help; he had to channel the guilt and force it to become some sort of resolution. But what?

"I'm sorry," he apologizes to Serena. She ignores this, demanding that he show up at her place at once.

The dead sound of the phone disconnecting reminds Nate of the hollowness within his chest. Where once his heart was beating is now an empty solitude. He slowly rises from his bed, mechanically dressing himself. Wandering downstairs he finds himself incapable of comprehending the notion of eating breakfast, and instead he slowly makes his way to the door, outside. He opts to walk, taking his time getting to The Palace. As he reaches the van der Woodsen suite, he finds himself face-to-face with Lily. She blinks, smiling despite her surprise.

"Nathaniel, good to see you. Are you here for Serena?"

"Yes Mrs. – Lily," he says, unsure what to call her. She chuckles slightly, but he continues. "She asked me to come."

Pointing toward the hall, she motions for him to step inside the door. "Sure, she's back in her bedroom. Go on back. Serena!' she calls before she whisks off into the direction of the kitchen. Nate can hear a man's voice, softly speaking to her, and he stifles a sigh. Rufus.

Such complications were the van der Woodsen women.

As he enters Serena's room – door partially ajar – he meets another round of confusion. Her head is bobbing in Chuck's lap and as Nate processes it, his gaze meets Chuck's. He backs away, about to retreat when he is addressed. Serena bolts upright and relief floods its way through Nate's body. Thank God, he couldn't handle Chuck getting action from everyone who meant something to Nate. (such possessive jealousy he has over those who are not his for whom he should protect) She is obviously crying but with her removal lunges Chuck, and Nate finds his body meeting pain – and Serena's bedroom wall.

No words can express what is on Nate's befuddled and baffled mind as Chuck shakes him. Serena finally intervenes and slowly, begrudgingly, Chuck releases his grip. He follows Serena's orders like a dog (nice to see someone can control the mutt, Nate figures) and sits perched on the bed. Unwilling to get too close, Nate lingers by the doorway until Serena motions to a chair across from the bed. Slowly, timidly he sits upon it, watching as Serena drops her body onto the floor – forming a loose triangle shape.

No longer it is all for one and one for all;  
they all stand alone.

"We need to figure out what happened, therefore figuring how to bring her back," Serena determines.

Chuck growls from the bed. "Ask Nate, he saw her last."

Two pairs of eyes fall upon his uneasy frame. Nate clears this throat, coughing. "Well, um, as I guess you two appear to know, Blair came over yesterday," he began. Stomach churns slightly – does he really need to give them a full play-by-play? Intent lingers within Serena's eyes as Chuck glances away – the best friend notion already knowing what happens next in the story. But Serena – either nosy or dense, either one of which she is capable – glares at him.

"God Nate, just get it over with already," she snaps.

"We – did our thing. She told me she was with me, things happened and then afterward…" Trailing off, he sits a moment, trying to remember. How did it happen? "I – I really don't remember what happened. I yelled at her, told her I was sick of her games. I told her that – that she only came to me because Chuck turned her down. That she needed to decide based off what she wants and not what someone tells her. I told her she knows Chuck and I both – care," he states, choosing to not mention the L-word. He cannot handle the idea of Chuck loving _his_ Blair. "I told her she needs to take that into her consideration and pick someone based off her wants. That I don't want to be second-best, and I don't think Chuck does either."

He adds in that last part, trying to level the playing field with his (former? he wonders) best friend. It does nothing, though; nothing but a dark stare greets him.

"She left after that," he whispers. "I have no idea where she went. I tried to call that night, it went right to her voicemail. Then I got the letter…" He pulls it from his pocket, fingers trailing over the creases that her own delicate fingers had made. "She could be anywhere."

"No shit Sherlock, money grows on Waldorf trees where Daddy's from," snaps Chuck. Serena glances up at him – it is only then that Nate realizes she is sitting with her back against the bed, head resting against one of Chuck's legs.

_Had she been that close to him before? Am I losing my mind?_

He blinks and the duo is no longer touching – though he swears that in his blanked out state, Chuck had been running his hand through Serena's hair.

_What kind of fucked up nightmare is this?_

Settling back, Nate considers a second. "Well, Blair's done this before, you know. Maybe – maybe she's just…"

"Thinking about it?" Serena offers. "It's true. Knowing Blair, she's probably on some luxurious spa vacation in France with her dad…"

"And daddy's boyfriend," Chuck adds, snickering softly at the notion.

Nate smiles. "Exactly. And she'll be back tomorrow, or next week – once she misses us. Right?"

_Right_. _You can only hope. _


	5. Blair: The Escape

"Georgina, do you want another drink?"

The lanky brunette wanders around the corner of the pool house, her right arm draped around the waist of the Swiss pool boy who looks _barely_ legal for sex, let along the scotch she's offering to him. Blair wrinkles her nose slightly, but says nothing. Though she's only been with Georgina for a total of seventeen hours, she already knows that the girl has no filter, no limits and no shame. Saying anything would only egg her on, therefore it was best to let her create her own folly. Their eyes meet, however, as Georgina passes Blair and shakes her head as an answer before she and the pool boy playfully leap into the pool together.

Oddly enough, a vacation in Switzerland with Georgina Sparks was relaxing.

After an hour's conversation of bribery, as well as details on Poppy's current location (Blair could thank her father for that one, keeping his eyes on the socialites of New York), Georgina had agreed to whisk Blair to Switzerland for a week. It was – well, anything but normal. They weren't acting as friends as much as they were being tolerant. They didn't share rooms and while Georgina basked in the arms of different men (it was no wonder she was Chuck's first, she was like a doorknob – everyone got a turn with her), Blair was left to think.

(little does she know that despite her insight on Poppy's whereabouts, thus fulfilling Georgina's evil plan of payback, she has quite a surprise awaiting her this coming semester)

The sun was glowing radiantly, reflecting off Blair's fair skin. As she sits in the lounge chair, sipping a glass of champagne, she watches Georgina and the pool boy, fooling around. She is grateful she cannot see what is happening below the surface of the water – the look on Georgina's face says more than words ever could. Settling back against the lounge chair, she ignores G's sudden pleas for her to join them, trying to get her mind to focus.

_He is hot, but I'm not into getting arrested. Though… maybe Swiss laws differ than ours?_

Temptation arises then is quickly swallowed by the reminder of her current situation. Nose wrinkles in distaste as she winces, eyes hidden by the ruby Dolce sunglasses that are perched upon her face. The words Nate had spoken to her were a true slap in the face – albeit they had hit too close to home for her comfort she had been shocked by the audacity. Initially anyway. Now, in retrospect, she knows his words were true – and she accepts the pain she has caused him. It is like dominos; Chuck hurts her, she hurts Nate – cycle repeat. Exhaling softly to herself, her weight shifts as she adjusts the tiny black bikini that clings to her body. The only realization she has accepted so far is that, oddly enough, Georgina is better company than Serena. In some aspects, anyway. Though she is tall and slender, whereas Blair is shorter and (in her mind) anything but delicate, both have ordinary brown hair, fair skin and pretty faces; nothing as dramatic as Serena but not to be ignored either.

Standing beside Georgina in a bikini makes her less self-conscious, she supposes. But is that a reason to keep company with the devil incarnate? She supposes not. However in her moment of desperation, she had to find the most _unlikely_ company for herself. She could not risk having her mother insinuate that she might be with her father, therefore having Serena or Nate or Chuck show up in France and _find_ her. That would defeat the purpose of goodbye.

So, she smothered her pride and stepped down the ladder a bit, and was now almost enjoying her mini-vacation in the mountains with Georgina.

Her thoughts are briefly interrupted as she hears Georgina moaning; softly at first, then growing louder. Her body is pinned to the edge of the pool, elbows resting on the sides as her back is to Blair. Blair feels her stomach churning – envious in fact, but never willing to admit it – crossing her legs as she tries to drown out the sound. This is not the first display of her whore status that Georgina's thrown out there – no shame indeed – since they arrived; but Blair has yet to get used to this.

_To think, she and Serena probably had sex at the same time in the same bed with two different men_. Blair couldn't even grasp that notion without feeling the ultimate desire to hurl. Just as Georgina's shrieks get louder, echoing off the fence that surrounds the private pool of Georgina's family's manor, Blair hears the vibration of her phone, buried within her purse. Her international cell – the one she had set to process GG's blasts, but had never given to her friends. It was perfect. Drowning out Georgina's vocal pleasure as she immerses herself in reading, her brow furrows as she explores what dish is delivered.

Spotted: Nate, Chuck and Serena all leaving The Palace to take a walk in the park. Is this a celebration of the lack of their dictator? Ding dong, the bitch is gone…

Scowling slightly, Blair jams her phone into her purse. _Typical Serena, thanks a lot_, she thinks to herself. She can see it now, GG's later blast – catching Serena and the boys naked in the fountain in Central Park. Oh, that girl. Clenching her fists, she doesn't realize until it's too late – when her angry fist meets the table beside her – that she's still holding her flute. Crystal shatters across the ground and the table, while champagne covers her skin. She winces slightly, feeling the sting of glass in her hand, watching crimson blood trickle from a cut in her hand.

Glancing up, she notes that the pool boy has replaced Georgina's position and the brunette is nowhere to be seen. _What the?..._ But the side profile of his face says it all and before she can look away, it shifts into utmost pleasure and he bucks his body. _But where the hell is she…?_

Surface of the water is broken as Georgina pops up, eyes landing right on Blair. "I can hold my breath for five minutes," she beams, proudly informing Blair of a bit too much information. Then, she notices Blair's hand and she gasps. "Blair! What did you do to yourself? Goodness, Albin please clean up this glass, I'll take care of Blair." She hops from the pool and walks over, instantly grabbing Blair's wrist, pulling her from the chair.

Once inside, their eyes meet and for a second, Blair is transfixed. Such pale blue eyes – she's never noticed before. Georgina's eyes are almost glass in their appearance, barely possessing any hue. "I – I'm okay," she says quietly.

"Sure, and I have a penis," Georgina responds. Then, snickering, she adds, "and I don't, ask Albin for confirmation." Blair wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. She has seen more than enough – Georgina's barely-there, pure white bathing suit prevents any other thought to cross her mind. "Look Blair, I don't even want to know what happened between you and Bad-Ass Bass but come on, we're on vacation. I demand you to lighten up. You can resolve whatever issue you have when you get home. Right now, we're going to enjoy ourselves. I agreed to drag you away for vacation, an escape. Not to watch you sulk while I have all the fun. And believe me, I like having fun but watching you sulk is sickening."

"I'm not into," Blair begins.

"So now's a great time to start. Nate fucked around, Chuck has been fucking around since the dawn of time, hell Serena's a bigger whore than you want to know. Distance makes the heart grow fonder; another dick makes you wish you had his in you instead. Give me a break. One night of living like Georgina and we'll go back to boring Blair, okay?"

Exasperated, Blair has every intention to crack Georgina across the face with her good hand in one swift bitch-slap. However, the challenging tone in Georgina's voice makes her cringe inwardly, growling to herself. _Damn you bitcch. _Unable to deny anything that she says, however, Blair finally caves. "Fine! One night." She feels her heart snapping; fooling around is not normally on her agenda – however, maybe a taste of 'reality' – the life of what some might call a normal teen on the Upper East Side, like her friends – might do her some good, she supposes.

Maybe.


	6. Georgina: The Deception

Surprise would definitely be the word to describe Georgina Sparks when she got a phone call – desperate plea – from Blair Waldorf. It struck her as funny that Blair would be down on her knees begging for some assistance from her; especially the fact that Blair had gone out of her way to locate Poppy and bribe Georgina with her whereabouts. It took no consideration from the destructive, conniving female for her to accept the offer. Ironically, she had been planning to flee to Switzerland for a few weeks, while her parents basked in the sun at their resort home in Milano. So permitting Blair to accompany her was little hassle.

Even without a bribe, she would have said yes -  
she already knew where Poppy was; that issue had been resolved.

Blair offered her nothing that she didn't already have, however the vulnerability of Blair Waldorf was too much to ignore. How could she deny her when she obviously just needed a little shift in lifestyle and environment? If nothing else, this gave her the upper hand; she could care less for Blair's wellbeing.

She is Georgina Sparks – thoughts of anyone's wellbeing, including her own, are scarce.

However, having the power of influence to sway Blair is something Georgina's always wanted. Even better, being able to shake up Blair's love life would be – well, true perfection. So behind the fake smiles and genuine-appearing gestures of kindness, the evil mind churns with dark thoughts and plots.

Putty in her hands.

As Georgina relished the vacation, however, Blair was lagging. Nursing drinks and looking outright miserable, she did nothing to help her cause. As Georgina saw it, the young brunette had a lot of potential. She was cute, with a pretty smile and a nice body. She had money, which was always a good deal breaker. Clean, wealthy men would fawn over her – if she could rip her head out of the clouds.

While nursing Blair's bleeding hand, she proposes the challenge.  
The challenge she knows Blair cannot turn down – pride is such a sin, Blair.

"Perfect," Georgina muses to herself. "There is this very high class bar downtown. I'm thinking we'll take the car there, then heat it up a bit at a club to dance. Sound good?" She knows every establishment in the area – this will be perfection, and oh so easy. Blair's eager nod is all she needs, and her mind begins to process the potential. Thoughts are only interrupted as Blair inquires as to whether the pool boy will or will not be joining them.

The devil's advocate merely chuckles softly, shaking her head. "He has no place with us," she states. "Plus, he just isn't up to par in the size department." Snickering, she hears Blair join in on the amusement as they both giggle a moment. Then, she pulls Blair from the poolhouse bathroom and without another word to Albin, they return to the main house to get ready for a night out – Georgina style.

Three hours later, both girls are showered, dressed and ready. Georgina stands, examining herself in the mirror, spinning to admire the pale blue mini-dress that clings to every curve of her body. Pale eyes are accentuated by the dark liner that circles them – dramatic lipstick completing the eccentric look. As she hears footsteps approaching she turns and even permits herself to gasp quietly. "I must say, Blair, you surprise me sometimes," she comments, grinning. She watches as Blair pivots gracefully, showing off the strappy black number (designed by her mother) that she has donned. The dress dives to a low V in the front, fitted to give the allusion of larger breasts than perhaps physically present. The back also dips to the same V that stops just above her lower waist. Three thin straps dance across the back to add some dimension. She is actually stunning, Georgina thinks to herself – this will work perfectly.

Offering her arm, as she used to (so often) to Serena, the two walk side-by-side from the house and into the waiting car. Georgina notes that Blair is beaming – natural glow radiating from her cheeks. She looks happy – alive.

And this is only the beginning.


	7. Serena, Chuck, Nate: The Discovery

The tears slowly fade and with begrudging agreement the trio heads toward Central Park. Serena insists, "This is what Blair would want. She does not want us trailing her. You know how she is – she just wants some time alone. I bet she met her dad at some exotic resort and they are catching up on life. You know?"

Exotic would be one way to define Blair's current situation.  
Erotic might have been a better selection, but poor naïve Serena trusts her gut instinct.

Nate sighs softly, glancing to Chuck. Guilt lingers in both their eyes – and neither believes that Serena is as peaceful as she may pretend to be right now. But without the desire to argue and stall, they both follow the tall blonde from her bedroom and the there make their way across town. Serena insists on walking, to get fresh air and hopefully clear their minds, but silence is all that embraces them (not serenity) as they try to distract themselves from their current state of distress.

Reaching the park comes so easily; their arrival is what tears them apart again.

"I want to go on a carriage ride," declares Serena, nostalgia infiltrating her mind as she recalls all the rides she had taken with Blair; carelessly flirting with their driver before vanishing with a simple kiss on the cheek and promises of forever. Simple, harmless fun. The guys, however, disagree – associating this notion with far too romantic ideas for such a day.

"I want to feed the ducks," Nate argues, his mind also flitting to Blair; their kisses and gentle embraces shared beside the pond.

Chuck's groan filters through the air. "Hell no. Somewhere far less public." A corner of trees would suit him so well; he often would hide here to smoke pot when he was younger, and he could recall many times where Blair would find him there while she was in search of Nate.

Arguing ensures and in the end, none wins in their cause. The trio, defeated, sits back-to-back in the middle of a grove of small trees, staring each in an opposite direction.

"This is my fault," Serena suddenly whimpers; both guys turn to glare at her. Had she been lying all of this time? But as she continues, their gazes fade to bear sympathy. "I should have stayed with her last night; I should have called her after she left…" She begins to sob again and both reach out their arms to console her. Chuck glares menacingly at Nate, who returns the stare with a cold one of his own – but in the end, it is Bass who triumphs. He cradles Serena against his chest, kissing her forehead.

"It is not your fault," he whispers. "We all could have, should have, wish we had. But we cannot change who Blair is. She does not face problems, she runs from them. She will come back, though; you know she cannot be away from you for long." Perhaps this was the _only_ truth he knew – because he did not believe she would return for him or Nate. Serena and Blair's bond has always been unbreakable; something enviable in the least. There is a dreadful silence before Nate finally agrees.

Nodding his head, he exhales softly. "Serena, you are Blair's best friend. She will come back for you." He hates admitting this, because he knows that both girls' affections for one another run deeper than their love for anyone else, perhaps. It is because of Blair that he cannot have Serena – it is because of Chuck that he cannot have Blair. Where is the sensibility in this world?

Silence is their only companion. Serena's sobs are stifled but her shoulders move in noiseless ones that rack her entire body. Chuck glances up to Nate and shrugs slightly, unsure how to console the tall blonde. This is the first time that either has seen Serena in such a state.

It is the interruption of their cell phones buzzing simultaneously that breaks the silence. Serena does not fumble for hers, perhaps having not heard it, and Chuck refuses to let go of the blonde. Nate exhales, assuming it to be a blast from GG – likely nothing he wishes to hear. But as their phones go off a second time, an encouraging nod from Chuck brings the lacrosse player to flip open his phone and cruise the two blasts received. The first is an image of him leaving with Chuck and Serena. To celebrate? He wrinkles his nose. GG strikes again, and poorly indeed. The second message, though, brings his lips to form a simple 'o' shape as he looks up to the duo before him.

"I know where Blair is; and worse yet, with who."

- - -

I apologize this story has been neglected for so long! I honestly had forgotten about starting and not completing it, but I will finish it as soon as possible, I promise. I just hope I haven't entirely lost muse for it. Please review and give me feedback so I know if I should carry on or surrender with no resolution!


	8. Blair, Georgina: The Exploration

_  
_Blair can feel her heart pounding within her chest, rattling like a frantic bird trying to escape its caged confines. The dress she wears – a gift from her mother – makes her look confident, beautiful. Georgina holds her left arm, guiding her; this gesture oddly soothes the petite brunette. Georgina is rattling about the fun they are about to have, reminding Blair to relax and be carefree. "This is our time to shine, Ms. Waldorf," the pale-eyed beauty chirps into her new-found 'friend's' ear, beaming from head to toe. Her Cheshire grin is almost intoxicating, and Blair feels herself smiling in spite of her anxiety.

Georgina leads them to the bar – the upscale nature of it radiantly gleaming from wall to wall. The darkness is intermittently interrupted with flickers of colored lights and there is a small dance floor upon which a few bodies move. It is still early, Blair notes – her own preference is that of midnight soirees – yet the bar is slowly filling. Only a few are dancing, but there is standing-room only by the tender, and a few tables remain unclaimed. Georgina takes them to a table in a corner, near the dance floor, and she lets her eyes graze their surroundings. Blair smiles slightly; Georgina reminds her of a lioness stalking her prey. She is almost feline in physical appearance – lanky, smooth and subtle – and the hunger within her eyes is almost enviable.

Suddenly, Blair is somewhat eager to enjoy a careless night of fun.

It begins simply. They order light appetizers and sip cosmopolitans while chatting casually. Georgina is strangely easy to talk to, since her knowledge of various subjects is so vast. She complements the bartender – a tall, slender woman – in German, causing her to blush and give them a free round of drinks. Blair arches a brow quizzically and Georgina smirks. "Picked it up on a summer's vacation here," she explains. "I told her she is intoxicating, a flower amongst weeds." Blair stifles a laugh at the cheesy comment, though it seems to have worked its magic. She is amazed to see how freely Georgina tosses compliments and receives rewards.

After an hour has passed, Georgina finally meets her mark. "Finally," she breathes, gesturing subtly over her right shoulder. "Don't make a scene but check out the two guys behind me." Blair's eyes stray slightly from her companion's gaze – leaving the temptress' stare to slip a peek at the duo beyond them. The one nearest to her is tall, slender and dark-haired; reminding her too much of Chuck, she supposes – it is something about his dark eyes. The one beside him is more built, in perfect condition, with a short crew cut of blond hair. "The blonde is perfect for your awakening," Georgina whispers softly. Blair says nothing, trying to cease her staring. Georgina is pleased – putty in her hands, indeed. "I will be right back."

Blair watches, barely in earshot, as Georgina approaches the pair and whispers something to the dark-haired young man. He beams, eyes lighting up as his gaze locks with hers and Blair smiles faintly. He is not quite as handsome as his companion, yet Georgina does not let the fire extinguish. Instead she trails her fingers along his right thigh, plump lips pouting slightly as his head shakes. It is but a moment before he surrenders, caving in to whatever words she breathes to him in German. He turns, introducing her to his blonde friend, and they soon make their way to the table, Georgina's eye meeting Blair's. "Blair, my darling, this is Adrian," she says, motioning to the darker-haired male, "and his friend Patrick."

Adrian takes her hand and shakes it vigorously, eyes never leaving her. Blair smiles, "It's nice to meet you both," she responds before her hand is released, only to be taken by the quiet blond. He lifts her hand to his lips and smiles.

"Pleasure is mine," he states, a hint of an Irish accent clinging to his words. "Adrian here speaks no English so I apologize if he seems rude." His eyes glance to Adrian, who is already seated beside Georgina, his hand resting upon her knee. "I, however, prefer English myself, if that is alright with you." He studies her a moment before she nods. "Good; I know German from living here for so long, but I think it is hardly a poetic language. All the coughing and stuff," he teases, nodding his head toward Georgina and Adrian who carry on vibrant conversation.

Blair chuckles, nodding. "I know very little of a few languages," she admits, "so English is fine by me. I know no German, and only a little Spanish, Italian and French." She twirls a lock of brown hair around one finger, staring into his bright blue eyes for a moment. "I will go out on a limb and assume you were in Ireland before Switzerland?"

His laugher resonates as he nods. "That obvious? Yes, born and raised. Moved here when I was sixteen. I'm now twenty-five." Blair holds back a gasp at the age – her mind incapable of grasping what on earth he would want with an eighteen year old woman. But she bites down on her lip, trying to make the most of her evening with Georgina. Before she has the opportunity to answer, Georgina is whisked to the dance floor by Adrian and both Blair and Patrick watch as his hands instantly begin to roam all over her body.

He laughs again, shaking his head. "They both speak the same language apparently," he notes, looking back to Blair. "I admit, this is not really my scene. I prefer a quiet pub rather than a boisterous dance party. Say, would you like to take a walk with me instead?"

She pauses, considering, before glancing back to Georgina – who is suddenly oblivious to everything but Adrian's fingers that have now slipped up her short dress, peeling aside her sheer panties eagerly. "Sure, sounds great," she agrees, shooting a text message to Georgina before slipping casually from her chair – now aware of his eyes caressing her frame. "Care to go for a dip in the pool at the resort where we're staying?" she offers, suddenly feeling more brave with her gaze stripped from Georgina's writhing frame.

"Absolutely," he murmurs, offering his arm to lead her from the bar and into the dark stillness outside the closed doors. 


	9. Blair: The Release

Darkness embraces them, shadows surreptitiously dancing in their midst. Blair feels Patrick's warmth as he escorts her from the bar and to the nearby resort where she has created her haven with Georgina. He speaks casually with her as they walk, asking about her travels and discussing his own as well. He is polite, for which Blair is grateful, and it revives a newfound strength within her. She is inspired; Georgina is not the only woman who can play this game. Driven further by her anger toward Serena – rejoicing at her departure? – she becomes eager to discover the 'new' Blair Waldorf and explore her independence. She needs a _release_.

The moments blur together as they reach the resort – she fumbles with her keys before bringing him into the suite she shares with the devil in a blue dress. She pauses, smiling faintly at him. "I did not bring any swimming trunks with me," she purrs quietly, "you'll have to make do." His eyes are locked with hers and for a moment, she feels her skin growing warm.

"I think I can handle it," he murmurs in a tone far deeper than his previous speaking voice.

She is unsure if he responds because she does not shudder away from his touch, or because of the inviting gleam in her eyes – but she does not question it. He is pressing her into his arms, dragging his teeth gently along her neck, before she realizes what is happening. A soft moan is uttered, her mind fading from the present. For a fleeting second she sees Chuck; feels him inside of her. Then he is forgotten, cast aside, disowned.

Her dress is on the floor, heels remaining on her feet as Patrick lifts her body from the ground. She had worn no undergarments beneath her outfit – at Georgina's demand – and this seems to please him well. His weathered hands hold her body against the living room wall as he fumbles slightly himself – not with keys but with a condom. Carelessly, however, she pulls it from his hands and drops it to the ground; glaring into his eyes. "I want to feel you," she hisses, suddenly so bold, so new. His eyes flicker with delight as he pauses before nodding. He cannot argue with this notion. Without waiting for further encouragement he lets his pants fall to the ground, erection already protruding from his boxers.

With one swift, passionate thrust he fills her. Her body tenses slightly – her un-tainted body so tight against his – as she settles to the feeling of having him within her. Though she had lost her virginity only months prior she still digs her nails into his flesh as he drills himself deep within her core. Her body has not been used roughly and he moans at the friction she creates. As she permits her mind to wander, Blair forgets everything but the rocking motion of their hips – ignoring the cold wall at her back and the grip he has on her thigh and hip. The small of her back pounds the wall with each swift shift of his own hips and she finds herself moaning in soft, yet guttural tones as his right hand leaves her hip, straying to fall between their union.

Rough fingertips suddenly become so airy, delicately tracing along her swollen pleasure as he focuses upon it. She can feel her heart pounding again, soaring freely as he continues to give her all of what he has to offer. His lips find her right breast and she gasps as he sucks upon it, scarring her with a bruise that – within her mind – will never fade. He imprints her again and again with his lust, fingers never ceasing their gesture upon her. Only when she trembles viciously and cries out does he finally let go; she goes numb, limp – content in his arms.

Sinking to the floor together, she kisses him. But a moment passes before she stares into his eyes, smirking slightly.

"You still owe me a night swim," she murmurs against his ear; nibbling it slightly.

- two hours later -

Soaking wet – in more ways than one – and overpowered with her ability to feel so free, Blair stumbles through the door to her suite with Patrick in tow. They nearly trip on the entangled bodies of Georgina and Adrian, passionately savoring the night on the living room floor – and Blair has a new hunger. Ignoring Patrick's comment of it being 'awkward' she strips him of his towel and leads him to the couch, dropping to her knees before him as he sits upon it. Lips part, tongue taking action as she drives him to madness before he insists he cannot wait any longer for her. She straddles him, riding him vigorously until he finishes; she is content.

Their night carries on with such antics – sometimes disappearing to Blair's room before returning to the living area, which is now empty. By the time six in the morning dawns upon the resort, Blair is sore, exhausted and intoxicated with her newfound majesty.

Living in the moment has suddenly become so appealing.

- five hours later -

Just after eleven in the morning, Blair awakes. She shifts slightly, aware of the dull ache between her legs. She reaches beside her and finds an empty spot on the bed where Patrick had been before she had fallen asleep. Shame suddenly replaces the high she had once embraced; feeling like a dirty, used whore. Even the note on the pillow (_Darling Blair, you gave me a night to remember. Call me tonight, my darling; I will eagerly await a call from you. –P_) gives her no comfort. She begins to sob, shaking her head. "I am not Georgina Sparks," she sobs into her palms. "This is not who I am. I – I love you Chuck Bass. I am so sorry…"

Long into the hour do her sobs resonate through the suite; reaching the ears of the already-awake and showered Georgina.

But she does not go to her aid.  
She is satisfied; her eyes have witnessed the falling of Blair Waldorf.  
And she now bears picture and video proof of this fact.


End file.
